


A Chance Encounter

by Brynn_Jones



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angel Castiel, BAMF Castiel, Blow Jobs, First Meetings, First Time, Hunter Dean, M/M, Plot What Plot, Virgin Castiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-13
Updated: 2015-04-13
Packaged: 2018-03-22 17:46:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3737842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brynn_Jones/pseuds/Brynn_Jones
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean is on a hunt for an unknown monster and instead meets Castiel, a soldier on leave. They end up getting rid of a body, sharing a burger and some bodily fluids.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Chance Encounter

**Author's Note:**

> Just a short little thing with no real plot that will hopefully get me over my writer's block :)

Dean hunched his shoulders against the biting cold of a late January evening and curled his fingers around the knife in his pocket. The dock around him was mostly dark, brightened only by the yellowish glow of scarcely installed street lamps, giving the young man little opportunity to properly scan his surroundings. The air filling his lungs was crisp with snow that hasn't fallen yet and the sea water was murky and cold, spraying Dean's shoes every once in a while as it rocked the anchored boats, causing him to shiver periodically.

A loud splash from somewhere to the left of him interrupted the symphony of creaking wood and humming waves, startling him and causing his muscles to tense as Dean shifted into a fighter's position, knife in hand. Dean pressed himself quickly against a nearby boat to cover his back just like his father taught him and looked around for anything suspicious. Damn his brother and his stupid flu for leaving Dean to fend for himself just when some kind of unknown monster appeared in town.

Dean and his brother Sam knew all about monsters. Vampires, werewolves, spirits, demons, anything you've ever read about in tacky horror stories and thought didn't exist, they researched, hunted and killed.

The thing responsible for seven unfathomable deaths two nights ago was something they had never encountered before though. It was something so powerful that it burned out the eyes of a whole crew of sailors and left them laying on their small boat without as much as a scratch otherwise. The coroner said the men were all heavily intoxicated and in their jolliness tried to complete some sort of summoning ritual they found in a fantasy book. When consulted, Bobby said he had never heard of such a ritual and Dean couldn't help but think that it was a good thing, seeing as the old man still had both of his eyes healthy and functioning.

The splash sounded again, this time closer, and the hunter felt his heart quicken its pounding against his chest. Someone was nearby, hiding in the shadows and watching Dean make his way up and down the piers. Someone or something.

"Whoever you are, come out," called Dean into the darkness, consciously loosening his wrist to better manoeuvre the knife.

There was a moment of complete silence, as if not even the ocean dared to make a sound, before the air shifted slightly and a suit-clad man made his way over to Dean just as the sounds restored themselves.

The man didn't look like much, thought Dean, he was slightly shorter than the hunter himself, his posture rigid, his head adorned by shaggy hair and big eyes. They were clear, not a demon then.

"Who are you?" asked Dean, pointing the knife at the man in warning. 

The newcomer raised his hands slightly in a defensive way. "I am no thief, I assure you," he said in a voice so deep and gruff that it couldn't have possibly been natural.

Dean snorted. "That's not what I asked, princess. Who are you?"

The man narrowed his eyes and tilted his head to the left, as if in deep thought. "My name is Castiel. I am a ... soldier on leave."

"Oh yeah?" asked Dean, not believing a word of what he was hearing. The guy looked more like an accountant than a soldier, hell he even looked more like a demon than a soldier, "you don't know anything about any deaths around here then?"

The man came closer, seemingly completely ignorant of the danger Dean posed to him. "Deaths? Do you mean the sailors?"

The hunter changed his hold onto his knife nervously. The man in front of him was really giving him the creeps, which was unusual with his choice of occupation. "So you _do_ know about them."

Castiel nodded, his hair falling into his eyes for a moment, before he swept it away with a well-controlled hand. "I have heard of the deaths, yes. There are few in this town who are still ignorant of what occurred on that boat. You are not a local though, how did you find out?"

Dean felt himself calming a bit, other than the ridiculous diction, the man didn't appear to be anything other than what he claimed to be. Still, he didn't pocket his knife yet. "I came here to investigate, one of the murdered was my friend's brother. He'd like to know what happened."

It was utter bullshit but the guy looked sympathetic. "My condolences."

Dean finally put away his knife at that, reckoning that if Castiel was about to kill him, he would've already tried something. "Well, what _are_ you doing here? You interested in the deaths as well?"

Castiel tightened his lips in what might have been a feeble attempt at smile, before nodding. "Yes, in fact. I thought that as long as I was here, I might as well take a look around."

Dean smiled, still not completely trusting the man but deeming him harmless enough for the time being. Deciding to keep an eye on him anyway, he offered: "What do you say we check it out together? You might even prove useful."

Castiel looked pleased. "Very well, I will try to help you on your quest. Are you willing to share your name?"

Was he willing to- "What? Oh, right. Dean, the name's Dean."

"Pleased to meet you, Dean," said Castiel and offered the hunter his hand for a handshake. Dean took it, cringing slightly at how tightly Castiel clenched his hand. What a douche. He hated people who tried to prove their dominance by crushing other's hands while shaking them, it was ridiculous.

Castiel didn't look like he was watching for a reaction though, instead turning his back on Dean and pointing at a small boat swaying several yards away from them. "That is the boat you are looking for, Dean. They call it 'The Angel Flower' though I could not come up with a reason why."

Dean grinned. "What do you know, there might be an angel with a flower hiding in there somewhere."

Castiel turned to look at him, a serious expression on his face. "That is unlikely."

Dean shook his head at the man's nonexistent sense of humour, following him over to _The Angel Flower_. They walked in silence for a while, ducking underneath the police tape and pulling themselves up on board of the boat, before Castiel asked with a head-tilt: "How did you know I was here?"

Dean raised his eyebrows. "Seriously? Man, you splashed about like a toddler in a bathtub. You couldn't have possibly thought I didn't hear that."

A scowl appeared on the man's face. "I didn't make a sound the whole time I was here, Dean. I thought you were the one to make those sounds."

Both men looked at each other before simultaneously pulling out their weapons and scanning their surroundings, positioned to fight.

"You see anyone?" whispered Dean.

Castiel narrowed his eyes before answering loudly, clearly having no concept of stealth: "No."

"Dude, shush. Don't you know how to whisper?"

Castiel didn't pay him any mind though, standing unnaturally still, his head tilted as if listening for sounds. That was when Dean noticed the knife Castiel held for the first time. It was a long star-shaped blade made of silver material that the hunter has never seen before.

Just as he was about to ask the soldier where the hell he got it, a different man in a suit suddenly appeared in front of them. And not appeared as in came into view, he literally appeared, materializing from thin air.

"What the fuck?" asked Dean, arm with his knife outstretched.

"Hello Uriel," said Castiel calmly, his creepy blade also ready in his hand.

"Castiel," snarled the guy, his white teeth shining in the dark night.

Dean stared. "Cas? You know this joker?"

"Yes, I know him," said Castiel, his voice calm, "and I have orders to kill him," he finished, suddenly stepping forward and stabbing his blade towards the other man. Uriel was ready for the move though and managed to dodge the attack, pulling out his own shiny knife.

Dean suddenly found himself frozen in place, wanting to help but not being able to make his legs listen to his brain. He's never choked like this before, facing all kinds of monsters, but now he could do nothing but watch the two men fighting.

Oh but what a sight it was. Castiel was graceful on his feet, his steps light, his movement calculated and precise, his attacks forceful. It didn't take too long for him to stab the other man in the chest, despite Uriel's apparent agility, spilling a bright liquid-like substance from the wound.

Dean's eyes watered from the sight just as he heard Castiel shout: "Close your eyes, Dean!" and he found himself finally able to move to shield his face from the onslaught of ozone-smelling light. There was a loud flash, not unlike a lightning, and then nothing. Everything was dark and calm again. Dean opened his eyes hesitantly, looking over at where Uriel was last standing. There was a crumpled body on the deck of the boat, a charred outline of an impressive pair of wings on the floor barely visible in the dim light of the dock.  

"Fuck," breathed Dean, looking over at Castiel, "who the hell are you?"

Castiel slid his fancy blade back in his sleeve and looked calmly over at Dean. "I am an Angel of the Lord," he rasped out, "And so was Uriel."

"An angel?"

Castiel nodded wordlessly.

"There's no such thing," spat Dean, waving his knife in front of him uselessly.

Castiel looked him straight in the eye before looking heavenwards. Another lightning flickered above them, a large shadow in the shape of wings appearing behind Castiel. If Dean thought Uriel's wings were impressive, Castiel's were completely unimaginable. They spread at least eight metres to both sides and rose high above the man's head in a spectacular display of dominance.

Dean cleared his throat. "Alright, I get it. You're an angel. No need to boast," he waited a beat, "I'm sorry I didn't help you with your buddy over there, I never choked before."

Castiel tilted his head. "I froze you in place so you wouldn't get hurt, Dean. You didn't ... choke."

Dean scrunched up his nose. "Well fuck you too. I can handle myself."

"Not against an angel, not with that knife," said Castiel matter-of-factly, pointing at Dean's weapon with his chin.

The hunter immediately pocketed it again, before looking over at Uriel again. "Why did you kill him if he was an angel? What did he do?"

"He killed those sailors, Dean. And many more innocent people all over the world, just because they tried to summon an angel. The Heaven's patience with him ran out and I have been ordered to deal with him."

Dean leaned back to rest against the boat's railing. "So those people summoned him and he burned their eyes out?"

Castiel looked over at Uriel. "Not exactly. They _tried_ to summon him, their rituals were imperfect and wouldn't have been successful, but Uriel decided to teach them a lesson anyway and appeared to them in his true form. He didn't burn their eyes out, Dean, he burned out their souls, forcing them to leave for Heaven."

Dean gulped. "True form? You mean to tell me that this ensemble isn't you?"

"This," Castiel clutched at his trench coat, "this is a vessel."

Now, Dean didn't like that very much. "A vessel? You possessing some poor bastard?"

The angel seemed not to notice the hunter's ire. "No, his soul has already departed for Heaven. He has, however, prayed for this while he was still alive."

Dean frowned and closed his eyes. He was tired, hungry and so fucking over all of this bullshit that he just didn't want to deal with the angel anymore. He didn't want to know anything, he didn't want to care about anything, he just wanted to buy a nice juicy burger and lie in a cosy motel bed next to his feverish brother.

"Dean?" asked Castiel hesitantly.

The hunter opened his eyes. "Is that it then? No other monster lurking around? Your job is done?"

The angel still looked uncertain. "I believe so. Unless you ... need something?"

Dean raised his eyebrows. Castiel seemed almost hopeful that Dean needed something, like he didn't want to leave yet.

"You hungry?" asked Dean after a minute of silence.

"Angels don't ... eat. I could bring you something if _you_ are hungry though."

Dean laughed. "A juicy beef burger with bacon and barbecue sauce would be nice. Some chips too."

Castiel nodded solemnly, his forehead wrinkling in concentration. "I can do that. Stay here."  and with a flap of wings, Castiel was gone, leaving Dean alone with the lifeless body of a murderous angel and a queasy feeling in his stomach. That was mostly caused by lack of food rather than anything else though.

Five minutes later, Castiel was back, a greasy paper bag in hand. "I brought you your food, Dean, the woman at the cash register even persuaded me into buying a menu, so you have something called a Coke in there as well. I hope that is alright."

Dean laughed taking the bag from the angel. "That's fine, Cas. Thanks." He looked around, "do we sit somewhere?"

Castiel looked around as well. "You can go sit down underneath that lamp over there, so that you can see what you are eating. I'll take care of Uriel's vessel and join you in a moment."

Dean nodded, agreeing that the body needed to be taken care of but too hungry to help. He figured Cas would have some angel mojo way to deal with it anyway.

He had just swallowed his first bite of the wonderful burger Cas brought him, when the angel joined him, sitting shoulder to shoulder with Dean.

"You ever had a burger?" asked Dean after a moment, his mouth full.

Castiel turned to him, studying the human intently. "I can't say I have."

"You want a taste?"

The angel didn't answer but leaned closer to Dean and opened his mouth, so Dean fed him the burger, watching with fascination as Cas chewed and swallowed. Come to think of it, when you disregarded the fact that Castiel was a supernatural being, he was a very handsome man. Or at least his vessel was. He had dark brown messy hair, vivid blue eyes, full lips - those could admittedly use a bit of balm - and nice pronounced cheekbones and jaw.

"How was it?" he finally asked.

The angel frowned in confusion. "I'm afraid I just taste molecules. There are some that are quite pleasant like the molecules of fat but the chlorophyll in the lettuce tastes bland."

Dean laughed. "Yeah well, rabbit food. I have to remember to tell Sam that chlorophyll is bland."

Cas smiled and just kept watching as Dean ate, carefully analyzing each movement.

"Why are you staring at me?" laughed Dean when he finally noticed the angel's attention. "Do I have something in my teeth or something?"

The soldier tilted his head again. "No, you just have a very pleasantly symmetrical face."

Dean smiled, a teasing look in his voice. "You mean I'm hot?"

"Hot?"

"As in good-looking."

"Ah, yes. You are very aesthetically pleasing."

"You really have no idea how to flirt do you?"

The angel shifted uncomfortably. "That wasn't meant to be a flirtation."

Dean gasped theatrically, a hand over his heart. "Does that mean you're not interested? You hurt my pride, angel."

Castiel hastily went to assure him: "No, I am ... I mean I think I am interested, I just have no real understanding of what exactly I am interested in."

Dean raised his eyebrows. "Does that mean what I think it means?"

"I don't know what you think it means, Dean, I'm not currently reading your mind."

Dean stopped at that. "That's ... uh, good to know. I don't really feel comfortable with anyone reading my mind, ever. What I meant was, that I think you are a virgin."

Cas looked up and down Dean's body as if discussing which course of action would benefit him the most. In the end, he finally admitted: "Yes, I am a virgin. Angels don't reproduce, therefore they have no use for sex."

"What about pleasure."

"I can't imagine what pleasure I could receive during something as crude as copulation."

Dean snorted. "Well, when you say it like that, even I'm not aroused." The hunter then moved closer, leaning over the angel, letting his voice go husky: "However, when you say something like, 'I'm going to blow you so good, you'll forget your name', I am very ... very aroused," he finished with his face mere centimetres away from Castiel's.

"Oh," was all the soldier could come up with in response, so Dean slowly closed the gap between their lips - it was a foreign feeling for the angel, though not completely unpleasant. Dean murmured a word of encouragement against the dry lips, before licking insistently against the seam, trying to work his way inside the heat of the Seraph's mouth.

Being finally granted access after Cas figured out what exactly Dean wanted, the hunter started exploring, sliding his tongue over Castiel's teeth before detaching slightly with a wet noise only to dive in again and again. The kiss went on for a long time with such an intensity that Castiel haven't really noticed Dean's hand sliding into his trousers until it was resting over his half-hard erection. The soldier let out another "oh" as if surprised that the contact had felt good and Dean smirked at him, quickly loosening his blue tie and unbuttoning his shirt. 

"I'm gonna make you feel so good that your feathery ass won't ever forget me, no matter how long you live," growled Dean as he kissed his way down the angel's newly-exposed torso.

"I have a very good- ah ... memory, Dean. It's unlikely I would forget you even if you weren't-"

Dean slid his tongue back into Cas' mouth, interrupting what was no doubt about to be a stupid comment. "Shut up, princess. Just let me do my thing."

Castiel apparently decided that the whole experience would end better if he listened to the hunter and shut his mouth. Dean happily went back to licking Cas' chest as he carefully unzipped the fly of the angel's trousers. When he reached the waistband, he slid the offending piece of clothing off and quickly followed with the pants. The angel's erection was already straining against his firm stomach and Dean didn't waste any time before he put his mouth to use.

He swirled his tongue around the head slowly, enjoying the quiet gasp that came from above his head, then slid his open mouth along the underside, mouthing at the balls for a moment before licking his way back up to the head. He repeated this a few times and when he managed to tear another gasp out of the soldier, he took him finally into his mouth, sucking in his cheeks.

Castiel breathed out loudly, the lamp overhead flickering slightly with the angel's pleasure. Dean bobbed his head along his length, adding a twisting motion with his hand to the base of the erection. It didn't take long for Castiel to start writhing uncontrollably, the street lamp flickering more violently.

Dean hollowed his cheeks a few more times before pressing his forearm against Castiel's abdomen and deep throating him carefully. That proved to be too much for the angel as he bucked his hips and came down Dean's throat, the lamp finally succumbing as well and shattering.

"Ouch," muttered Dean, coughing a bit as come dribbled down his chin and rubbing at his neck, where some glass shards found their target, "Well, I have good news and I have bad news for you."

The angel raised his eyebrow.

"The good news is that your come tastes like mint water, which is a lot more pleasant than the usual. The bad news is that if you shatter a lamp every time you orgasm, you're never getting laid again."

Castiel smiled slightly before commenting in a raspy voice: "I'll try and control myself the next time. The pleasure was very unexpected and my grace slipped out of my control for a second."

It was only then that Dean realized how close to dying he actually came. "Wow, so sleeping with an angel is a life hazard, huh?"

Castiel shrugged. "I wouldn't know."

Dean raised his eyebrows suggestively. "So, you willing to reciprocate?"

"Of course," murmured the angel quietly as he leaned over, "and I also have good news for you, Dean. I have no pharyngeal reflex."

"That means gag reflex, right?."


End file.
